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Spinning in the spin-y office chair, Sirius threw his head back and felt the long hours of his shift creeping into his bones. It was just gone three in the morning, which meant their show was over, but they still had another twenty-seven minutes of prep for the next night. James was diligently at the computer, scouring the database for what they could use for their line-up the next night.
“We ought to do something…I dunno,” James said and ruffled his messy hair. He pulled his glasses off, grimacing at the lenses, then shoved them into the folds of his shirt and rubbed vigorously. “Something new. Something different. Other than just whinging at each other and playing your random K-Pop music.”
“I’ll have you know my selections aren’t random.”
“Yes, your hipster, underground, you’ve-probably-never-heard-of-it K-Pop, doesn’t count as random,” James said with a roll of his eyes.
“Well it’s not my fault no one here is cultured.”
“I’m sorry, but aren’t ninety percent of the sodding University students Tumblr kids these days?” James asked with a small smirk. “They have t-shirts and memes and everything.”
“People who reblog gifs of waify Korean boys in order to seem like they have some idea what my culture is like,” Sirius said, waving his hand, “do not fucking count. You know my rule. If they don’t…”
James groaned, interrupting his friend. “No time for your ranting, Pads. Look I’m just saying we should do something different. Like, I dunno, Hindi Pop week or something. I don’t think we have anything here in the database, but I bet my dad has loads.”
Sirius quirked a brow at his best mate, and hummed. The idea had merit, indeed. “Hindi Pop. Isn’t that the shite you got me all addicted to in sixth form, only for all of it to disappear in like…a week?”
“S’not my fault no one appreciates the glory that is Juggy D and Rishi Rich,” James said with an indignant sniff.
Sirius’ grin widened. “You know what, mate, I think you’re on to something.”
He picked a stray bit of fuzz from the side of his blue leggings and wriggled his toes in his new socks. Lily had gotten him rainbow coloured toe-socks, and he was still getting used to the feeling. Reaching up, he pulled the bobble from his hair and shook it letting it flow down round his shoulders. It was still wet from his previous shower, and smelled faintly of lavender from the shampoo bar he’d nicked from James’ girlfriend.
“D’you think dad can get you enough music to last an entire week?”
“Well I think I’ve some already,” James said, going into his mobile. He scrolled through what he had downloaded and shrugged. “A couple of albums on here. But maybe he’s got a digital version of stuff from earlier? We could have an eighties night.”
“Okay write it down, send it over to Moody and see what he thinks.”
James snorted. “You know Mad-Eye won’t care so long as we keep the airwaves occupied for an hour.” Still, as he spoke he tapped out the email, then plugged his phone into the computer to transfer the music files.
They wouldn’t get a response from Moody til morning, but since they hadn’t given him a second option, he wouldn’t say no. It was one of the reasons James and Sirius agreed to take on the shift—they could do whatever they wanted because hardly anyone aside from the mad people agreeing to work these night shifts, and the hysterical students trying to cram in revising after spending too long out at the clubs, bothered to listen.
I mean what were they? The University radio station you could only pick up in the vicinity of the station itself, and if you were lucky, the surrounding neighbourhood. But they liked it, it was a nice outlet for Sirius who didn’t sleep much to begin with, and needed the distraction from his anxiety which tended to flare up at night.
“Alright, I’m sorted. You ready to get out of here? I’ve a lecture at nine tomorrow and I want enough time to grab a coffee.”
Sirius perked up at the thought. They frequented a nearby little café where he’d been attempting to chat-up the extremely stodgy, swotty barista for three months now. So far Sirius knew his name was Remus—thanks to the name pinned to the front of his hideously orange apron, that he was a student—and he’d worked out Remus was in the astrophysics graduate programme only because he’d once walked in on him working on a paper during his lunch and hadn’t let up until Remus confessed what he was getting up to—and that he was annoyed by Sirius’ antics, but in a way that held secret smiles because Sirius was convinced deep—deep, deep—down, Remus found it endearing.
“Oh come on, can you give it a rest for a single day?” James groaned as he grabbed his pack from the shelf against the far wall. He’d obviously seen the lecherous grin on Sirius’ face. “He’s never going to say yes.”
Sirius scoffed as they made their way to the freezing, dark street and headed toward their flat. “I happen to recall saying the same thing about a certain, rather hateful ginger who—as it turned out—rather fancied you but was afraid to admit it.”
“No,” James said. “She hated the sight of me, and only after I’d matured and become a responsible adult—and her proper friend—did she decide to give me a chance. Something you’re hopeless at, Pads.”
“I resent that,” Sirius said, sniffing as he bunched up his hair and twisted it round to the back of his head. He reached for his bobble, but realised he’d left it. Instead he used one of his colourful rubber bands he’d nicked from Moody’s desk earlier. He grimaced as it pulled at the sensitive hair at the base of his skull, but it was better than having the wind whipping it about. “I can be perfectly mature when I want to be. It just happens to be never.”
“And he’ll continue to go out with you never,” James pointed out. “He’s put off by your…” He waved his hand up and down at Sirius.
“What? At my what? My entire person?” His eyes were wide, affronted.
James rolled his eyes. “You can be a bit much. I only happen to love you because you’ve had fourteen years to grow on me.”
Sirius huffed, then linked arms with James and yanked him close, nuzzling into his neck. “You do love me, right?”
James laughed, putting his arm about Sirius’ waist tightly. “Course I do. But Remus doesn’t. You just need to accept that.”
“Never,” Sirius said, his face muffled by the side of James’ jumper. “I will never accept that. He’ll love me some day. I just need to grow on him.”
“Like mould?”
Sirius grinned. “Like mould.”
***
Remus fought back a yawn, hating these days. It wasn’t often he got stuck with a morning shift after his overnights with his second job, but he couldn’t afford to lose the wages in favour of sleep, so instead he kept a constantly full cup of double-shot latte at his fingertips, and tried not to look like he hadn’t slept in twenty-four hours. Luckily the morning rush at the café kept him on his feet. The drinks were almost always the same—either tea which required pouring hot water and slapping a tea bag on the counter, or the usual latte with a few extra shots for those like him who needed to be able to stay awake during their lectures.
Luckily for him, Wednesdays were for research only, which he could skip the lab, pretend like he’d done it, and pray for the best. Fortunately physics were second nature to him so it was hardly any trouble at all on these days.
He just had to will himself to stay awake until his shift was over.
It was just gone eight when the door swung open and a pair walked he he’d been hoping he wouldn’t see. James and Sirius—he knew because Sirius made it his mission to annoy Remus to the point where he might actually explode and leave bits and pieces of himself all over the café. James once mentioned it was flirting, but Remus had never experienced flirting like that. And honestly it was hard to believe him, as he wasn’t sure what someone who looked like Sirius would want in someone who looked like Remus.
Sirius was beyond gorgeous. He was shorter than Remus by quite a bit, his head just barely poking over Remus’ shoulder. He had incredibly lush black hair he mostly kept in a top-knot, but a few times he’d come in with it in a plait, or loose, landing just past his shoulders and Remus had to often resist the very physical urge to run his fingers through it. Sirius face was another thing that often sent Remus’ head into a panic, it was so damned attractive. Sharp features, cheekbones that could cut glass, eyes that were the colour of storm clouds—it really should have been illegal to be that good looking.
Remus knew compared to that, he was earth. He was shadows. He was the epitome of plain. He was too damned tall for his own good, broad shoulders, dark brown curls that were impossible to deal with so he just kept them short enough that they weren’t wild, and brownish amber eyes. He was all jumpers and plain jeans to Sirius’ wild coloured leggings and tunic shirts, and the leather jacket that shouldn’t have been so good looking but it was. And it was strange for Remus to even think that way, as honestly he was demisexual and rarely looked at people like that. But Sirius seemed to transcend most things. Not that he was thinking about sex, though. He truly wasn’t, and that was part of the problem.
Remus reminded himself, there was no way someone like Sirius would be interested in him without the sex part, and definitely wouldn’t be once he learnt Remus was interested in buggery just about never.
Sirius flirted, yes, but more than likely it was because he was interested in pulling the swotty barista. And being Remus wasn’t interested in becoming Sirius’ conquest of the week, he decided he’d endure the flirting and winks and constant annoyance to avoid an actual heart-ache if he bothered to give in, only to be cast aside for the next bloke who came along.
Although, a tiny voice reminded Remus—the evil, tiny voice who never let up—he’d never actually seen Sirius chat-up anyone else. Or even so much as glance round besides to fawn over James. In fact, Remus assumed they’d been a couple until James brought in his fiancée, a perfectly lovely woman whom Remus enjoyed talking to very much. She was a pastry chef hoping to open up her own place, and was always coming in dropping hints that Remus ought to come and work for her if she would work out the loans for a premises. Secretly he’d agree in a heartbeat, but he’d not say it aloud for fear it would get back to Sirius and make him even more impossible.
“Remus, wolf of my heart, moon to my star…” Sirius leant on the counter, batting his criminally long lashes which shouldn’t have been so damned gorgeous without any sort of product. “I was hoping you’d be working today.”
Remus had very little patience which came from no sleep, and he tried to temper his long-suffering sigh, but failed. “Sirius. James. The usual?”
“Tetchy this morning, are we?” Sirius asked. He drummed his long fingers on the counter, his glittery polish glinting off the overhead, hanging lamp. “Rough night? Bad date, was it? You know I’m more than happy to take you out and show you how you ought to be treated.”
Remus pushed the buttons on the little computer and said, “Anything else?”
James seemed to pick up on Remus’ need to not be harassed by Sirius, and quickly handed over a tenner. “You look shattered, mate. You alright?”
“Fine,” Remus said, waving his hand. “Just had to pick up an extra shift and I’m tired. And I’ve work at the lab tonight.”
“Bad luck,” James said.
Sirius was eyeing him carefully, then looked over at James who gave him a somewhat challenging glower. Sirius let out a breath, then smiled back over at Remus. “Well I hope you get some decent rest after.”
That was it? Remus was confused. There was no poorly disguised sexual innuendo to follow? No ridiculous chat-up line in attempt to get his number? Just a, ‘Hope you get some rest?’ Not that he didn’t appreciate it. Not that there was some bubble of disappointment in his gut at the thought that Sirius might be finally losing interest in him.
“Thanks,” he muttered. He turned to the espresso machine and quickly packed it with four shots. Twisting them on tight, he shoved the small pitchers under the spout, pushed the button, then walked over to the small freezer for the steaming pitcher. He poured enough almond milk in for the two lattes, then shoved it under the steaming handle and got the foam as hard as he could.
Grabbing two cups, he poured in the espresso, the milk, then gave them both a sprinkle of cinnamon before passing them over. James smiled, and Sirius tipped his cup at Remus. “Cheers, there, Moony. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” Remus said with a small frown. “See you.”
***
“Told you,” Sirius said as he followed James outside.
James snorted. “Yeah, see if you can actually keep it up, though. It took me almost nine full months just to get Lily to talk to me, then another year of friends before we agreed that we’d like to try dating.”
Sirius groaned. “I’ll be a withered old maid by then. With like nine cats and my looks will have all gone and he won’t love me anymore.”
James rolled his eyes. “First of all, if it is love, looks won’t matter. Secondly, he doesn’t love you now, anyway, so stop being dramatic. I have to get to my lecture and Lily wants to drive down to Surrey to see her parents tonight. Which means you’re on your own for tea. I won’t be back until late.”
“I hate you,” Sirius groaned. “I’m going to eat pizza. With loads of meat and cheese. On your bed.”
James’ eyes narrowed. “You. Wouldn’t. Dare.”
“I might,” Sirius said indignantly. “I might dare since you’re making me not flirt with my Moony and woo him. I don’t want to wait a year. Or whatever.” Sirius’ tone was low and depressed, making James look at him funny. “I do actually fancy him, James. And he won’t even look at me. Am I really that pathetic?”
“No, Sirius. You’re not pathetic. You are a wonderful person who deserves to be loved by someone as much as you love them.” James pulled Sirius in, grabbing him by the chin, and kissed his mouth softly. “If it’s meant to be,” he said, stroking Sirius’ cheek fondly, “it’ll happen. Just be patient.”
“But I want him now. I love him.” Sirius pouted, but leant into James’ hand for a moment.
James huffed and let him go. “You don’t love him, you don’t even know him.”
“Yeah well... I really fancy him and I want to fawn over him and give him presents and make him feel beautiful. Why won’t he let me?”
“Because you’re a pain in the arse. Anyway, fuck off, love. I have to go.”
Sirius stomped his foot, then turned away. “Fine. See if I care.”
***
Remus was just rounding his fifth blissful hour of sleep when his mobile began to ring, and he groaned. It could be one of two people, both of whom he had no interest in speaking to because it would mean trudging his arse out of bed and going to work. And yet he found himself answering because apparently he just didn’t love himself very much at all.
“Yes?” Remus asked, his voice thick and heavy with sleep.
“Remus, love, I have an emergency.” It was Dorcas, and she sounded half-panicked. “Mary’s in excruciating pain and I have to take her in to hospital. Can you please mind the shop? Pete’s there now, and he said he can wait an extra hour if you need time.”
Remus was up now, scrubbing his face and fumbling for his jumper. “What’s wrong with Mary? Everything alright?”
“I don’t know,” Dori said, her tone miserable. “Something in her back. She’s crying and she can’t walk upright.”
“It’ll be alright, love,” Remus said as he struggled into his previously discarded jeans. “Tell her I love her and you had better keep me updated.”
“I will. And if you need someone to cover you at the café, ring up Benjy and tell that bloody bastard he owes me.”
“I will,” Remus said, the worry and adrenaline taking over for any exhaustion he had left. When Dori rang off, he fired a text off to Peter to let him know he’d be down soon, and quickly struggled for his beanie, laptop, and his books. At the very least he’d get time to finish revising since Thursday nights were almost always completely dead.
Hurrying down the street, Remus made his way to his second—and most secret job.
He once found it ironic when Peter got him the job there at the Broomstick. It was a sex shop, specialising in toys and adult films, and for someone who was well sorted into the asexual spectrum, over the last year Remus had become very educated in the ways of acts he had never himself experienced. But he reckoned any education was better than none, and it paid alright. The hours were shit, but having proper meals instead of pot noodles and dry toast was not.
Luckily the shop was tucked away right near his flat, and very near the science centre so it was never a bother to get to and from. He quickly slid in through the doors, annoyed at the cold in the air, but there was heat blasting from a small vent, and Peter was leant back in a chair behind the cash till, his foot up on the counter, the telly perched on an old table showing some Star Trek episode from the Original series.
“You talk with Dori?” Peter asked as he got up to collect his things.
“She sounded dreadful,” Remus said with a nod. He swapped places with Peter, switching off the telly in favour of setting up his laptop. “I asked her to keep in touch.”
“I’m hoping it’s nothing,” Peter said as he quickly swiped his badge to end his shift. “But honestly it sounded like her appendix or something.”
Remus sighed, shaking his head. “Dreadful. Well at least she’s heading somewhere for proper treatment. Keep me posted if you hear anything.”
“Course.” Peter shoved his beanie on over his hair and wriggled into his coat. “It’s been well dead tonight, so I doubt you’ll get much business. Gid will be in at about three, so at least you won’t be too long.”
“It’s fine. I’ve got loads to work on anyway,” Remus said, nodding to his books. “I missed the lab today, so I’m trying to make up for it.”
“Well good luck. Glad we’re almost done with this whole mess.”
“Assuming I can get my shit together and finish my dissertation,” Remus groaned, but he was smiling at the thought of finally, finally being done. “Have a good night, Pete.”
“Laterz!” With that, Peter was out the door and Remus was alone.
He sat a moment, annoyed by the silence, so as he pulled open one of his books, he reached over and switched on the radio. They didn’t get great reception in the windowless building, but they had good access to the University radio station which played student-led music blocks. He hadn’t often listened this late at night, preferring to focus on his work, but being as shattered as he was, with his sleep-debt piling up to a rate he’d never be able to pay back, he hoped it would keep him going for the next three hours.
For a moment there was silence after switching it on, and before he could change it, two voices began to chatter.
“Welcome to another block of Marauding with Padfoot and Prongs.” The voice was clearly affected for radio, but sounded vaguely familiar. Not that it was a shock, as any one of the students at the University could have been running the station. “Now Prongs, as this is your week, go ahead and introduce us to our new experience.”
The second voice chimed in. “Hindi Pop.”
“I will say,” Padfoot went on, “that dear Prongsie here got me addicted to Hindi Pop before the genre itself started a slow decline, leaving me pining away for more. But luckily as Prongs’ dear old dad has a massive stock of old music for us to bestow upon you beautiful listeners, you’re in luck.”
“…can I speak now, Padfoot?”
“What?”
“You asked me to introduce our segment then you…”
“I what?” Padfoot asked.
Remus snickered at the banter. “You want to do it on your own then? Shall I just sit here useless, even though I am the one with the actual experience in the matter…”
“Because you’re a Hindi Pop star?” Padfoot challenged.
“I might have been had dad not talked us into law, you absolute…”
“Ahem. Radio. We have to be sensitive to our listeners’ delicate ears.”
“…plonker.”
There was a long pause. “You did not just use the word plonker. Excuse me, is Marty McFly round here? Have I been transported back to the seventies?”
“Shut up.”
“No you shut up,” Padfoot said happily. “And get on with your introduction.”
Remus was chuckling hard as they finally introduced the music, and it was actually really good. He found himself jotting down the names of each of the singers as Prongs introduced them, and before long had a decent list of things he could see about downloading.
He was also enjoying the show so immensely that when it ended, he was disappointed and also had formed a rather bizarre crush on the one called Padfoot who was the more dramatic of the pair, but also rather endearing in a way. It was familiar, but he couldn’t put a name to it.
Glancing at the clock, he saw Gid should be in soon, so he grabbed his laptop and did quick search of the University’s radio programmes. He found the Marauding Hour with Padfoot and Prongs, but there were no photos or any real bio. Just a couple of sketches of a dog and a stag, with the show times, and past recordings that could be downloaded from the site.
Remus made a mental note to ask round the café the next day just in case, and he tucked his list of Hindi Pop into his pack just as the door opened and the redhead sauntered in.
“Any word from Dori?” Gideon said by way of greeting.
“Not yet.” Remus checked his mobile one final time before tucking it into his pocket and wondering if he should bother with the last scraps of sleep before his café shift. “Let me know though, yeah?”
Gideon looked shattered, choosing to nod rather than speak, and he sank into the chair with a great yawn. “Customers?”
“None. Let me know if you need anything though,” Remus said. He paused as he wound his scarf round his neck. “You alright, mate?”
“Just fine. Mate of mine dragged me out because he was abandoned by our other friend. A grievous crime, apparently. He’s bloody needy and impossible when he gets all worked up. Which apparently he is over some bloke. Wouldn’t give me details, but apparently he’s so far gone he’s never coming back. Ridiculous, really.”
“Shame,” Remus said, wondering what it would be like to have someone pining for him like that. Not that he’d appreciate it, really. It was too much trouble to bother with, especially when none of them understood him the way he needed to be understood. “Have a good shift.”
“Yeah. Later,” Gideon said with a wave of his hand, and Remus headed back to his flat to try and scrap together a couple of hours before his body completely fell apart.
***
Unfortunately for Sirius, he wasn’t able to make it into the café for the next four days. He and James were completely swamped with work. James had managed to talk Sirius into going into law—something he never thought he would ever consider in his life. Of course Sirius had never really been able to tell James no about anything, so when they both started their GDL, he seethed in silence.
They were going into environmental law, in keeping with James’ parents who were both prominent lawyers practising out of both England and India, and really Sirius would have been more cross about it had it not been for the devastatingly proud look Fleamont and Euphemia gave him when they learnt the boys’ plans.
But it wasn’t easy. It was horrible, time-consuming, gruelling work that wasn’t even going to be over once they’d finished the GDL. Because then they had to prepare for the BPTC—another possible three sodding years, though two of them could have them working with the Potters so he reckoned that part wouldn’t be all bad.
Sirius was mostly put off by the fact that he hadn’t been able to see Remus in four days, and therefore had not been able to prove to James that he could be mature and responsible in his fancy, and wasn’t in over his head. And maybe, just maybe, get Remus to finally notice him.
It was mid-afternoon and James was snuggling on the sofa with Lily when Sirius decided he’d had enough. “I’m off.”
James quirked a brow at him. “To where, might I ask?”
“What’s it to you?” Sirius demanded as he shrugged on his leather jacket. When James continued to stare, he sighed. “To the café. I want to see if Remus is there and be all polite and kind and…whatever else you want me to be.”
“You could just ask him out,” Lily pointed out with a smile as she rested her head in the crook of James’ neck. As his hand ghosted up and down her arm, her eyes closed and Sirius fought back a wave of jealousy because he wanted that, too. Not from James, mind, but from someone who loved him as much as James loved Lily.
“Listen, don’t try to be rational about this, Lils,” Sirius said, waving his hand. “I don’t operate under normal, hetero circumstances.”
“Of course you don’t,” she said tiredly. “Tell him I said hi, if he’s there. Alright?”
“Will do.” He tipped them both a wink, blew a kiss which James caught and pressed to his heart, making Sirius preen a bit, then headed out the door.
Honestly a decent ride on his bike would clear his head, then a coffee and hopefully a very mature, not-at-all over the top chat up.
He took the long way round, cursing through the streets, weaving in and out of gridlocked cars with a grin and a wink to frustrated drivers. The weather was surprisingly nice for being almost January, and by the time he reached the café, his head was a bit more sorted.
Leaving his bike at the kerb, Sirius ran his hands through his hair, lamenting he hadn’t asked Lily for a nice plait before going. Still, it fell into place easily as it always did—bless his mum’s genetics as she’d given him fuck-all else in the way of anything decent—and he reached for the door.
There was a small queue, as there always was, and his eyes looked round but to his dismay, Remus wasn’t there. Though it wasn’t often he found himself at the café past the morning, so he couldn’t assume Remus was there all the time. Still, he queued up behind a tall bloke wearing sunglasses inside, and chatting on his mobile like a complete twat, and tapped his lip as he decided if he should stay.
Just as he was ready to take his turn at the counter, his gaze drifted toward the window and to his immense surprise, Remus was there. He was sat at a larger table with several books and his laptop spread out. His face was a mask of concentration and frustration—something Sirius understood spiritually these days—and he watched as Remus reached for his cup, attempted to take a sip, then frown deeply when he realised it was empty.
Jackpot, Sirius thought to himself. He waited to see if Remus would get up, but instead the curly-haired man pushed the cup to the side and ran his fingers into his hair. Sirius tried not to imagine what that would feel like—because it would do no good—and he went up to the smiling woman at the till.
“Hi. I would love something with caramel. And soya. Latte or something,” he said, and gave her a dismissive wave. “Also…that bloke over there?”
As he pointed, the woman’s eyebrows lifted. “Remus?”
“Yeah. What’s he having? Do you know?”
“Tea, I think,” she said with a shrug, then frowned. “Why?”
“Well I’d like to add that as well.”
She laughed a bit. “You realise his tea doesn’t cost him anything, right?”
Sirius frowned. “Will you just be game? Please.”
“Ah.” She licked her lips, then put in the order and shook her head a bit as he handed over a tenner. “Shall I deliver it to him and give him the, ‘from the gentleman over in the corner,’ speech?”
“I’m not a gentleman,” Sirius corrected. “And no. I’d like to bring it myself if it’s all the same.”
“As you like it,” she said, then turned away to get everything sorted.
Within five minutes Sirius was clutching his own paper cup of overly sweet, caramel and soya latte, and in the other hand balancing carefully a cup of tea in a large saucer. Taking careful steps, Sirius approached Remus’ table and eased the tea down.
“You looked like you could use another.”
Remus blinked, startled, then his eyes widened. “Oh erm. Thanks. Did you get this for me?”
Sirius nodded with a grin. “I did. You’re welcome.”
“You do realise I don’t actually pay for my drinks here, right?”
Sirius huffed. “She said the same thing,” he jabbed his chin toward the snickering woman at the till, “I mean what’s a person need to do to get a little recognition for a good deed round here?”
Remus chuckled a little and sipped the tea before reaching for his small pot of milk. “Thank you, Sirius. I appreciate it.”
His tone at least sounded sincere, and Sirius glanced over at the empty chair. “Would it be alright if I sat a moment?”
Remus looked vaguely annoyed for a moment, then sat back and shrugged. “Yeah, alright. I mean, honestly I could do with a break. I’m on no sleep at all and I’ve got so much to get finished this week I think I might have brain matter actually leaking out of my nostril at this point.”
“That,” Sirius said pointedly, “is absolutely disgusting.”
Remus tipped his head up, forcing Sirius to focus on the large, and incredibly adorable nose. “Is it true, though?”
Feeling emboldened, Sirius swiped one long finger under Remus’ nose, making him grimace. “Nope. Not yet, anyway.”
“Christ,” Remus muttered, but he laughed as he swiped his sleeve under it—just to be safe.
“So why the no sleep?” Sirius asked after a bit. This was what normal people did, right? Ask proper, polite questions.
“At my second job, my workmate’s girlfriend is in hospital. She’s got lesions on her kidney and they might have to do a surgery. So I’m covering more shifts.”
Sirius winced. “Bad luck. She alright?”
“She will be. It’s not life threatening, but she’s in pain. I don’t mind, really. It’s just very late nights, and I’ve got all morning shifts here. If I could afford to take time off they’d let me but…” He stopped and shrugged, looking vaguely embarrassed.
Sirius had only ever had to worry about money once in his life. At sixteen when he’d been thrown bodily from his front door with nothing more than a twenty in his pocket and the clothes on his back. His mum hadn’t even let him grab jacket or shoes, and somehow he’d made it across London to James’ all the while wondering what he’d do if the Potters turned him away. He was a disgrace, after all. Or so he believed the words his mum had hissed at him for at least the three hours it took before Mrs Potter took him inside, hugged him, and told him he’d always have a place with them.
He’d even been written into their will as a proper heir and everything.
And it felt a bit shitty he couldn’t fully understand what it would be like to need a job so badly you had to sacrifice proper sleep. “Is it a decent job, at least?” seemed the only thing to say.
Remus laughed. “It’s not bad. It’s a bit…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Unconventional, I suppose. For me, at least. But it’s alright. And no, I’m not going to tell you what it is.”
“Escort?” Sirius asked, waggling his eyebrows.
Sirius delighted at the small blush crossing Remus’ cheeks as he shook his head. “No. Not pretty enough.”
“Oy, give yourself some credit, Moony. You’re bloody dashing and you’ve captured my heart.”
Remus rolled his eyes, that old, familiar exasperated look crossing his face, and Sirius felt bad about it. But only a little. “You’re not as clever as you think, Sirius.”
“No,” Sirius agreed. “More clever, I reckon, but I try to stay humble.”
Remus stared at him before breaking out into a fit of giggles, covering his mouth with the sleeve of his jumper, and Sirius had to physically restrain himself from grabbing him and just…he wasn’t even sure. Wrapping him in a warm hug? Kissing him? Running his hands into those damnable curls he couldn’t stop staring at? He was so bloody gone for Remus, like he had never been before and it was torture.
“That’s…well…maybe the biggest lie you’ve told me so far.”
Sirius grinned wolfishly. “So you think. Anyway I…” He trailed off after a second, though, as his gaze fell on a piece of paper Remus had clearly scribbled out. It was a list of Hindi artists he and James had been playing over the last week. “What’s that?”
Remus looked down, then blushed just a little. “Oh. Some music I wanted to see if I could download. I’ve got myself addicted to this late-night radio programme. Marauding Hour. You know it?”
“Might have heard,” Sirius said very carefully, trying to give nothing away. “Two people playing random music?”
“Yeah. I mean, I’ve just started listening so all I’ve got are these Hindi Pop artists, but they’ve been brilliant. And they’re funny,” he said with a tiny smile.
“Yeah? Funny, you say?”
Remus nodded, shrugging as he sipped his tea. “A lot of banter, you know. Inside jokes that shouldn’t even be funny, but they are for whatever reason.”
“Sounds like you’ve got a bit of a crush,” Sirius remarked with a sly tone.
Remus rolled his eyes, but his blush gave him away. “There’s one called Padfoot who’s a bit endearing. A bit,” Remus insisted when Sirius waggled his brows. Sirius was doing his damndest to keep from giving himself away because the moon to his star was crushing. On him. My god. “I mean, it’s the radio, so who knows what they’re like in real life.”
“True. You never know. It could be some seventy year old man with gout.”
Remus shrugged. “Could be. Wouldn’t make him less endearing, even though the age difference might put me off.”
Sirius lifted a brow. “But not the gout?”
Remus laughed. “No.”
“What if he wasn’t…you know. Conventional? What if he was hideously unattractive?”
Remus hummed into his tea as he looked at Sirius, very carefully, like he was studying a new specimen. “It’s all subjective, what’s attractive and what isn’t. You can sit there and easily—whether your mean it or not—call me,” clearing his throat, he went on, “attractive…”
“I think I’ve been a bit more creative than that,” Sirius said with a small, sharp grin. “And I have meant every word.”
Remus blinked at him for a moment, then shrugged. “I may not agree with you, but there it is.”
“So it wouldn’t bother you at all?”
Remus shrugged. “How can I say? I’ve no idea what this person is really like, but their radio personality is adorable so yes. I’ve a small crush.” Blinking at Sirius for a moment, he laughed. “Are you jealous?”
Sirius, wanting desperately to let out the laugh, or even the confession, shook his head. “No. I’m not. I just want you to be happy, Remus.”
Laughing, Remus shook his head. “Thank you for the tea, Sirius. I really should get back to my revising. But it was nice to chat.” And, surprising Sirius, Remus sounded like he meant it, and was even a bit confused.
But he knew when to call it a win, and Sirius rose before he could say or do anything to ruin their delicate moment. “See you round?”
Remus grinned and nodded. “Oh, I expect so.”
***
“…just keep us posted and give her a kiss from me, alright?”
“Of course, Remus. And thank you. Really.”
“It’s nothing, trust me. Just have her get well.” Remus rang off, then reached over to switch on the radio for what was becoming his favourite nightly routine. He’d even caught himself listening at home instead of sleeping, which was becoming a problem.
But Sirius calling him on the crush had not diminished it at all. Padfoot and Prongs were funny, and there was something about Padfoot, a sort of unassuming charm and energy which was…well oddly it reminded him of Sirius a bit. But maybe it was knowing it wasn’t directed at him made it easier to take. He could wallow in his fancy without having a taste of what he knew would never work out.
Never mind, he thought to himself, that Sirius was becoming more…reasonable. Human? He’d stopped with the constant chat-ups and although he was always flattering—so much so Remus almost believed he was truly interested in more than just a fling—he was talking to him like a human being.
“Ah my delightful little humans,” Padfoot’s voice rang out over the airwaves toward the very end of the programme. “I’m in a rather decent mood tonight. Even Prongs agrees I’ve been more tolerable.”
“Not a screaming endorsement,” Prongs reminded him.
“Be that as it may, the truth is, I’m in love.”
“It’s not love,” Prongs chastised. “You don’t even know him.”
“Yes,” Padfoot sniffed, “I do. We’ve got to know each other over small conversations.” He paused, then sighed. “Alright it’s not love, but what is love, anyway? Really? It’s subjective—as someone once told me recently—just like attraction.”
Remus, who was starting to pack up knowing Gideon would be by to swap shifts, froze. He knew that conversation, because he’d had that conversation. He blinked up slowly, staring at the radio as though it might offer him proper answers.
“I think you’re waxing poetic because you can’t get him to pay attention to you,” Prongs said.
“He has,” Padfoot argues. “We’ve got friendly and it’s a start. We don’t want to talk about how you and your precious Doe finally made it work. Or the years you spent humiliating yourself in front of her.”
“She eventually saw my charm,” Prongs argued with a small laugh.
“Charm. That’s one word for it, I suppose.”
“And another?”
“Completely obnoxious and just got tired of listening to you whinge about her not loving you?” Padfoot offered.
“I’d ring her up right now if she wouldn’t completely eviscerate me for waking her up at this obnoxious hour, and prove to you she’s fallen for the delight that is me,” Prongs said indignantly.
There was a pause before Padfoot said, “If I didn’t love you, I’d be far less kind, Prongsie. But I do. You are the moon to my star. Or well…no that title belongs to him but you are certainly a something to my…to my something.”
“Eloquent as ever, Pads. But it’s time to sign off. So until tomorrow…”
Remus missed the greeting as his head was spinning and his ears were buzzing because now that he heard it, he couldn’t unhear it. Their voices, the banter, the posh accents, the fact that Prongs was Indian and Padfoot was Korean it all…god it was all crashing down and he had to hold the counter to remain steady.
“Fuck,” he whispered to himself, and realised that back at the café, when Sirius had seen his list and was questioning him about the show—he’d known. He had known and he’d let him go on and on like that. For what? Ego? Or was he trying to spare Remus humiliation.
Whatever it was, Remus knew he could never look Sirius in the face again.
***
At dinner a fortnight later, Sirius was beside himself with frustration and worry. He hadn’t seen Remus at all in that time, and he wondered if there was something he’d done. He was not his sunny self at all, and in fact even Peter—their old mate from sixth form who met for drinks maybe once every two months—had noticed. And Peter rarely noticed these things at all.
“Spill it, Black,” Peter said, pointing his sauce-covered fork at Sirius. “You’re moping and it’s putting everyone off. Sirius Black doesn’t mope.”
Lily rolled her eyes. “He’s been trying to chat up this poor barista for ages, and just when he started to get an in, the bloke disappeared on him.”
Sirius, who was huddled in a cream-coloured, very fuzzy jumper and black leggings, wrapped his arms round one knee, hugging it to his chest. “I’ve done something to put him off. He’s rejected me without even having properly asked him for a date and I…it’s just…I hate this.”
Peter frowned at him. “So one single person on the planet rejected Sirius Black. Do you really care?”
“Yes!” Sirius cried. “Because I actually liked him. Properly, by the way. Not just for a shag. He was just so adorable with his stupid jumpers and his curly hair and big nose and all those horrible astrophysics books…”
Peter, who was drinking his beer, choked. Pounding himself on the chest, he slammed his beer down. “Swotty fellow with jumpers and astrophysics books?”
Sirius blinked. “You know him? Works at the Uni café. Called Remus.”
“Fuck me,” Peter said, shaking his head back and forth. “Remus Lupin.”
Sirius leant forward. “Yes. Wormy,” he said, calling on Peter’s ancient nickname, “you tell me how you know him immediately or I will make every prank we ever pulled back at school look like a child’s game.”
Peter licked his lips. “He’s my flatmate.”
There was a stunned silence at the table. Even James was blinking, his eyes wide. “Your flatmate?” James asked. “As in lives with you? Remus Lupin, the man Sirius has been mooning over for sodding months, is your flatmate?”
Peter shrugged. “He is. We also work together.”
Sirius sat back, then his eyes flew wide again. “Oh my god. At the sex shop.”
Peter nodded. “Yeah he’s been doing more shifts there after Mary got ill. I…oh god. You’re the one he was always talking about. The one trying to pull him for a one-off.”
“No!” Sirius cried, his tone full of agony.
James reached over, pulling Sirius close as he met Peter’s gaze. “He really hasn’t been, mate. I swear it. Sirius is fucking mad for this bloke.”
Peter gnawed on his bottom lip as he stared at his old friends. “Well…well shit. I think he’s a bit nervous because he’s…” He huffed. “I’m not sure it’s mine to tell really, so suffice it to say he’s never ever going to be interested in some casual affair.”
Sirius, who was letting James cuddle him, glowered at Peter. “I’m not even sure what the hell that’s supposed to mean, but I thought I made it very clear I don’t give a shit about that. I like him.”
“Properly,” Peter repeated, not a question.
Sirius nodded. “I thought maybe…well he said he was interested in Padfoot.”
Peter snorted a laugh. “He’s been listening to your show?”
“He said as much,” Sirius replied with a shrug. “Honestly, do you think I have even the slightest chance with him?”
“Dunno,” Peter said. “I mean he swapped his shifts at the café to work evenings, but I don’t think it was because of you. I think with Mary out he’s had to bleed one shift into the other and save his mornings for working on his dissertation. So…maybe?”
Sirius looked over at James with a small sigh. “You think I should go and talk to him?”
James looked torn, but eventually shrugged and gave his hand a pat. “I suppose it’s all you can do.”
***
Remus was nose-deep in his book, the words all bleeding together for how exhausted he was, but the shop was empty as it had been all night, and the radio was off because he hadn’t been able to bring himself to listen to Sirius and James—especially not after he knew—and especially after Sirius knew what he’d said.
Trying to ignore his urge to switch it on and just hear him for a little bit, Remus squeezed his eyes shut. Before he could continue on, the small bell on the door chimed, and there were footsteps. With a sigh, he prepared himself for what was usually some drunken eighteen year old who got word of the shop and wanted to check it out on a dare.
But as he opened his eyes and looked over, his heart began to hammer in his chest and his breath came in short gasps. Sirius was there, wearing a heavy jumper, motorbike boots poking over his calves covered by shining black leggings, and his hair was tied up in a bun with a purple ribbon. He had a hesitant smile on his face, his shoulders hunched.
“Peter sold you out.”
Remus blinked. “What? Peter? Pettigrew?”
“Old mate from school,” Sirius said. He took another hesitant step toward the counter, then stopped. “Though he didn’t so much sell you out as he found out the person I’ve been mad for turned out to be his flatmate.”
Remus was stunned, sitting back just a bit because for a second it felt like he was falling. “Peter’s your old friend?”
“Yes,” Sirius said slowly. He eventually straightened his shoulders and crossed the distance between them. He put his hands on the counter, clasping them gently, and looked Remus in the eye. “He said you swapped to evenings. Was it me?”
Remus licked his lips, then said, “You knew I was talking about you. When I was talking about the show. About Padfoot.”
Sirius had the decency to blush a little. “Yes. I did. I should have…I’m sorry, I should have said something, but I didn’t want you to stop. You were actually having a proper conversation at me where you weren’t rolling your eyes or calling me daft.”
Remus felt guilt welling in his stomach at the thought that he had been rejecting Sirius all this time. Which he had been, if only to protect himself. But he had no idea Sirius was that invested. “I thought you just wanted to pull the shy barista.”
Sirius laughed, but the sound was strained and tense. “Do I seem like that type? The sort of careless, shag-everything and never talk to them again, type?”
Remus shrugged. “I don’t know. But I…I fancied you and I didn’t want to get hurt. Before I knew you were Padfoot, I mean.”
Sirius blinked in surprised, and took a startled step backward. “You fancied me?”
Letting out a harsh laugh, Remus leant forward. “Of course I did, you absolute prick. You’re one of the most gorgeous people I have ever met in my life, and your smile lights the bloody room, and your energy is fucking consuming. Who wouldn’t fancy you?”
Sirius was full-on flushed by then, shaking his head and looking a bit like Remus felt—like he wanted to bolt into the night. “I didn’t know. I thought you couldn’t stand me.”
“And you were what? Trying to wear me down?”
Sirius barked a nervous laugh and shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never really had a crush like this before. And James wouldn’t stop taking the piss. I was confused.”
Remus rubbed his hands down his face, then hopped off his chair and leant onto the counter, urging Sirius forward. “You want to date me? Properly date me?”
Sirius nodded. “More than anything, I think.”
“I don’t like sex usually,” Remus blurted, figuring if anything would chase him out, it was this. “And I know I work at a sex shop—but it’s for the money. I’m demisexual so I might want sex from time to time, but it’s not a thing for me usually. So…it’s best if we just…”
“I don’t care,” Sirius blurted. “I mean, I care that you’re comfortable. If you want it, I won’t say no. But this isn’t about…I’m not just…” He was flailing, and Remus felt bad for him.
Feeling more bold than he ever had in his life, Remus carefully walked round the counter, then pulled Sirius’ hands into his. It stopped the blabbering and heavy breathing as their eyes locked and Remus smiled very carefully.
“I want to believe you.”
“I’m not…”
“I know,” Remus breathed. He tugged Sirius closer and found his hand reaching up, gripping the side of his neck and feeling the warm skin there. He wanted to feel more, to kiss him a little, to hug him. To feel Sirius’ arms round him as he’d imagined before. “I think,” he said very slowly, drawing their faces together so they were centimetres apart, “we could give it a try. If you like.”
Remus did not miss the smile as it lit up Sirius’ entire body, his eyes shining as he brought his hands to Remus’ waist and gripped him round the ribs, hard. “I would like. Remus…Remus,” he whispered, “I would very much like.”
***
One Year Later
Remus heard the door swing open, and Sirius stomped in. It was snowing, and there were flakes now melting at the instant heat from the warm fire Remus had been stoking all day. He rose, greeting his partner at the door, using the sleeve of his jumper to wipe the dripping trails from his cheeks, and he smiled as Sirius’ mouth twisted into a wry grin.
“How did it go today?”
“Well,” Sirius said, fisting his fingers in the front of Remus’ jumper and tugging him close, “I think we’re going to win this case. And if we do, the company will have to stop marketing their water as friendly to the environment.”
Remus smiled, pressing a soft kiss to Sirius’ cheek, which was returned as Sirius grabbed him by the face and kissed him first on the tip of his nose, then full on the lips. “I’m proud of you, you know,” Remus murmured.
Sirius buried his face in Remus’ neck and breathed him in. “I’m proud of me, too. And Jamie. He told me today he and Lils want to name me a godparent to their little sprog. I hesitated. It’ll be legal and it’s going to read godfather on the forms but…”
Remus pulled back, cupping Sirius’ cheek. “But?”
“Well I love the little bean so much it’s hard to care, you know?” Sirius grinned, leaning into Remus’ hand as Remus’ soft fingers stroked over his cheekbones. “I guess it’s one thing I can sacrifice.”
“James would understand, you know, if it made you feel uncomfortable.”
Sirius grinned and leant in for another kiss. “I know, which is why I want to say yes.” He finally pulled back to unwind his scarf and kick off his boots. Grinning, he let Remus lead him by the hand back to their comfortable sofa where a warm duvet and careful arms were waiting to envelope him. “That kid is going to be the most spoilt kid in all of Britain. Maybe the world.”
Remus laughed, reaching up to pull the tie from the bottom of Sirius’ plait, and he let his fingers untangle the locks so they flowed slightly wavy over his shoulders. He pressed his face into them, breathing in Sirius’ floral scent, and he smiled. “Maybe the world. I certainly feel like the most spoilt boyfriend.”
Sirius laughed, pinning Remus to the cushion and feathered kisses along his cheeks and across his nose and mouth. “Because you are. I had to work hard to get you.”
“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” Remus asked with a small groan.
Sirius laughed, kissing him again. “No, never. But the good news for you, my beautiful Moonbeam, is that since I had to work so hard to get you, I aim to keep you. To ply you with sweets and kisses and snuggles and anything your heart desires.”
“Anything?” Remus asked, his eyes twinkling.
Sirius laughed. “If you’re referring to the pains au chocolat I procured from your favourite patisserie this morning—the one all the way in sodding Dartford, then the answer is yes. Anything.”
Remus grabbed him by the face, kissing him hard enough to make their toes curl. “You know how much I love you?”
“Tell me?” Sirius murmured against his lips.
“More than the moon loves the stars. More than anything, Sirius.”
Sirius nuzzled him, pressing his chilled nose into Remus’ warm cheek. “Good. Because I love you just the same.”